The Virtuoso by Grace Burrowes Page A

how long it had taken his left hand to actually get the right cuff link fastened. Darius had taken his inconsiderate self off to London at first light, leaving Val to don proper attire for the first time in days, and make a slow, difficult job of it.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with this hand?” Belmont took Val’s left hand in his own and peered at it curiously.
    â€œI’ve managed to do some damage to it.” Val sat to remove his boots, taking his hand from Belmont’s inspection. “Manual labor is not without its perils.”
    â€œTell me about it.” Belmont took Val’s boots and set them outside the door. “I was resetting a pair of shoes on Abby’s gelding a few days ago, and he spooked on the cross ties. My toes will probably be purple until Christmas. Good for sympathy, though.”
    â€œYou’re in need of sympathy from your new wife already?” Val asked as he stepped out of his breeches. He eyed the tub with something close to lust and stepped in without another word.
    Belmont regarded Val’s naked form with frank appraisal. “My wife will want to stuff you like a goose, Windham. Have you no provisions at your campsite?”
    â€œWe eat regularly.” Val sank into the water on a heartfelt sigh. “I’m not sitting on my arse all day anymore, playing pretty tunes and idling hours away. God in heaven, was there ever a pleasure greater than a hot bath?”
    â€œIf you have to ask that, you are not right in the head, or somewhere else.”
    â€œI’ve been accused of same.” Val closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “There is a kind of grime farm ponds do not get clean.”
    â€œIt has been at least a year since I’ve gone swimming,” Belmont replied, gathering up Val’s breeches, shirt, and socks. “Now you may soak. I’ve no doubt my wife is grilling Mrs. Fitz at some length, so take your time. By the way, you seem to be getting on with the lady well enough.”
    â€œShe is amiable,” Val pronounced from his tub. “As am I.”
    â€œAmiable.” Belmont frowned. “Well, all right. I won’t pry, but Abby will get the details out of Mrs. Fitz, so you might want to spill anyway.”
    Val frowned right back. “What I tell you will get straight back to our mutual friend Nick, who will tell my brother Westhaven, who will tell his wife, who will be interrogated by Her Grace, and so forth. You and your brother are no doubt discreet fellows who do not cut up each other’s peace. My borders are not as easily defended as yours.”
    â€œFair enough. So let me leave it at this: If you do want to talk, I can, contrary to your surmise, keep my mouth shut. Ellen is lovely, and had I been a different kind of widower and she a different kind of widow, she and I might have been closer friends.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?” Val scowled, abruptly wishing they were having this discussion when he was dressed and not lounging naked in a tub.
    â€œIt means I would not blame either one of you for what you did in private,” Belmont said. “Neither would Abby.”
    Val blinked. “My thanks.”
    â€œI’ll see your boots cleaned and leave them at the door.”
    Axel repaired to his library, there to start a letter to Nick Haddonfield, generally regarded to be Val Windham’s closest friend. And while Axel would not violate a confidence, something had to be relayed to Nick regarding his brother-in-law Darius and his friend Lord Val, if only placatory generalities. Darius had attached himself to Val at Nick’s request, after all, and this little plan to foster Day and Phillip in Windham’s camp had been Nick’s casual suggestion, as well.
    Casual, indeed.
    ***
    Ellen unpinned her hat and surveyed the gracious, airy guestroom. “You weren’t joking about a bath, were you?” Maids were trooping in, each one dumping two buckets of warm